Exotic Preferences
by fischfrau
Summary: A troll is hired as the personal bodyguard of an eccentric blood elf to work with the Reliquary in Krasarang Wilds. Rated for eventual violence and smut.
1. Chapter 1

When Cerril entered the Wyvern's Tail, she knew that trouble wouldn't take long to find her. Yet, she tried to ignore all those spiteful stares and hushed words of antipathy as she made her way over to the bar. Much to her relief, the orcish barkeeper seemed to be less hostile and instead immediately greeted her with a fang-flashing grin.

"Well well. You don't get to see trolls very often anymore, at least not in Orgrimmar," he said, and Cerril was painfully aware of the crescendo of whispered insults that fell on her ears. Nonetheless, she somehow managed an equally friendly expression as she listened to his next words. "So, what will it be?"

For a moment, Cerril creased her forehead in thought. "A mug of Junglevine Wine."

"Right up."

With a thump, the mug landed on the bar in front of her, filled to the rim with her most favorite liquid in all of Azeroth. Her eyes sparked up in delight after taking a sip of it, and she threw the barkeeper a few pieces of silver before looking for a seat somewhere more protected from the angry stares that seemed to follow her wherever she went.

She decided on upstairs; here it was a little less crowded, and the guests gave her the impression that she was actually welcome to sit here drink with them. Regardless, she chose an empty table and sat down beside it, enjoying the tasty alcohol and recovering from the exhausting last couple of days of hard work.

"Have you heard? Garrosh wants to build a fortress on the shores of Pandaria! Insane, isn't it?"

Cerril immediately perked up her ears, effectively eavesdropping on the conversation.

"Nah, but it sounds nuts to me. I'm sure the Alliance won't take his shit. And just think of what would happen if the Pandaren turned against him! He isn't exactly known for his subtle diplomacy."

Indeed, this was alarming news. Ever since Garrosh had more or less banished the trolls from his forces, things just kept getting worse and worse. Under Thrall's reign, she had been a well respected warrior, and she had been a very motivated supporter of his motives. But now? She was nothing, less worth than a speck of dust, not even allowed to serve under the new banner of Garrosh Hellscream.

Agitated, she snorted more to herself than anyone else. Maybe she should just return to the Echo Isles, find a mate and live the rest of her life peacefully...

"Oh my. A troll, here? And a female one, too? You must be either very brave, or very stupid." A blood elf suddenly stepped into her vision, throwing her off guard. Normally, she wouldn't even bother to take a look at him, but something about his weathered and yet angelic features just captured her interest at once.

Slightly irritated, she gave him a small snarl of displeasure.

"Look out, ya might be next on Hellscream's blacklist, mon," came her angered reply as she shot him a warning glance. The blood elf, however, seemed completely unimpressed and simply went on with his talking.

"Yes, I fear that is only a question of time. But for now, I shall enjoy the freedom of drinking ale and talking to brave or stupid troll females in a dirty tavern of Orgrimmar, now shan't I?" And with those words, he simply sat down next to Cerril, whose expression immediately darkened in dismay. This blood elf was definitely brazen...

"Ya really wanna ruin my off time, eh?" she sighed, taking another gulp of her wine, all the while inspecting the man next to her intently. Shining fair hair fell on his broad, finely clad shoulders, and the small patch of hair below his lips was in neat shape. If she had been one of his kind, she would have called him handsome and sturdy, all right. But she was a troll. End of discussion.

He laughed, a charming and bright sound, almost sophisticated. "I do not intend to. Not even remotely." The small wrinkles around his eyes deepened, his smile grew. It would have made every elven girl in his vicinity swoon, of that Cerril was sure. And even though she hated to admit it... it even had a small effect on her, as well.

Only one question remained; what did he want from her?

But before either of them could utter even one word, a calloused green hand suddenly grabbed her shoulder forcefully. Cerril jumped in surprise and bared her teeth at the unwanted physical contact.

"You better leave, troll, before I smash your pretty head in. The warchief does not tolerate your kind here anymore!" a bulky orc growled from behind her, pulling her from her seat. The blood elf observed what was happening, and, surely being one of the more eloquent elves, quickly tried to calm the attacker down. "Now now, lets just take this easy. Our trollish friend is leaving immediately, no need for violence."

Inwardly, Cerril thanked the Gods for sending this elf as she felt the orc's grip on her shoulder wane. Eventually, he let go of her, shooting her one last grim look. "Would be a waste to destroy that nice face, right. You better be off now, Troll!"

Exchanging glances, they both nodded and left the tavern instantly.

Upon seeing Cerril's gloomy features, the blood elf looked into her eyes, smiling reassuringly. "I told you. That idea surely wasn't the brightest you've ever had, eh? But do not worry, everything went just fine, what more could we ask for?"

Cerril kept staring back at the tavern, could not understand what had just happened. To be honest, she would have loved to ram her sword into that orc's side and behead everyone who even dared to approach her. But she knew that would only brand all of her kind as bloodthirsty, rotten traitors, which wouldn't make things easier, exactly.

Her gaze latched onto the blood elf's face. "I s'ppose I should thank ya, elf. But I really should leave now."

As decent and proper the elf might have seemed before, his face suddenly took on a more... devious and predatory expression. "Oh, Troll. I think you owe me one after that incident, do you not think?"

The sudden change startled Cerril a bit. She certainly had not anticipated that. "Uh, whaddaya mean, exactly?" she asked, taken aback. But he was lucky; she was an honorable person, always paying her debts when any were due.

"Come with me to Pandaria. A few fellow blood elves of the Reliquary already await me. There are many mines and ruins waiting to be explored, and I need someone who can handle potential attacks on our camps." His face grew more serious now and his voice dropped. "Of course, I would pay you adequately."

Bereft of her breath, Cerril could only stare at the elf in front of her. Pandaria? In all seriousness? She would have loved to punch him in his nuts and simply run away.

Except, she was no coward, nor a weakling. She loved challenges; and she would get a chance at kicking and bossing around Hellscream's forces a little, which was just enough to quench her thirst for revenge...

Hesitantly, she asked, "What's ye name, elf?"

The person in question beamed at her in delight. "Pelendur Silverleaf. And I take that as a yes."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2, yay. Thank you wanda von dunayev, for your kind review!

Killed a few spelling errors of the first chapter... sorry about them. I write my stories always late at night, and my eyes aren't the most healthy ones, so I sometimes simply miss them :)

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In retrospect, when she was finally on the battleship headed to Domination Point, Hellscream's monstrosity of a fortress, Cerril did not regret her choice to accept Pelendur's offer in any way. As soon as the Krasarang Wilds came into her sight, she kind of felt at home, even. The jungle seemed so much like the one of the Echo Isles, her home. She couldn't stop staring from the small cabin which she shared with the blood elf who had brought her here.

Hadn't there been all those odd goblins' devices and machines cluttered everywhere on the shores, the illusion would have been perfect.

With a sigh she averted her eyes from the scenery and instead looked over to where Pelendur was already putting on parts of his armor, which, strangely enough, Cerril recognized as blood knight armament.

„Ah spirits, yer one 'a tose?" she asked, puzzled and disgruntled. If there was something she couldn't stand, it was these preaching wannabes who knew nothing of honor.

Yet, Pelendur did not seem to take offense. His smile was as bright as ever, although one might have noticed a small portion of pained regret in the wrinkles of his eyes.

„Yes, I am. But, rest assured this is merely a formality. My allegiance lies solely with the Reliquary, so you don't have to fear any pompous sermons from my side." Fastening the straps on his boots, he seemed to be finished with dressing. „There will be, however, a lot of real blood knights acting as guards to our excavation sites, so..." he grinned at her charmingly, upsetting her slightly with the strange effect this always tended to have on her, „Please try to behave, proud and angry troll."

As he left their cabin, Cerril let out a low growl of dismay. What was he thinking, talking to her like that?

Anyways, it was time to get dressed as well. Quickly and with experienced motions, she put on her simple steel armor and threw over a cloak. The crest of the Darkspear Trolls was printed on it, and for a moment she thought about leaving it somewhere, as the orcs of Domination Point surely wouldn't voluntarily suffer any insults within their own walls. But that wouldn't be any fun, would it? So ultimately, she kept it on. She wasn't here on behalf of the Horde, after all, but as the independent bodyguard of some strange blood elf.

When she first stepped off the battleship, the very first things she saw were, of course, the angered expressions of every single orc she crossed paths with. Despite the cumulative hate everyone seemed to hurl at her, she kept her proud stance and continued on, until she heard Pelendur's yell.

„Cerril, come here! To the portal!"

She arrived there shortly to see that Pelendur was wainting for her among a group of fellow blood elves. He motioned her to come closer to him, and she did as she was told.

„This is Cerril Whirltusk, my brethren and sisters. She will accompany us to the ruins of Ogudei, as you know how feisty the Alliance can be." The blood elves whispered to themselves, but Cerril couldn't make up whether they liked her or not. „Isn't she a wonderful creature? Just look at those impressive tusks, and that fiery, braided hair! And her skin is the prettiest shade of blue I have ever had the pleasure of-"

„Tat's enough, elf," she interrupted him in a rude manner, folding her arms while regarding him with a suspicious look on her face. „Ya should just remain silent if ya value yer tongue."

To her surprise, Pelendur's cheeks turned a few hues darker, just as if he was embarrassed about her display of authority. „Yes of course."

This guy was becoming a real nuisance.

After stepping through the portal maintained by a few magiesters, Cerril at first had a hard time adjusting to the sudden change of illumination; the blood elves had summoned strange glowing orbs of synthetic light so that working in these underground ruins even became possible at all. And even though magic absolutely wasn't Cerril's cup of tea, she could feel the vibrant hum of some incredible source of might buzzing nearby. Impressed, she turned to Pelendur, who was busy reading a few scrolls, presumably reports of previous discoveries.

„Tis is 'mazing! What's tis place called 'gain?" she asked him, even though she had little hope of even getting an answer from this guy.

After a short delay, however, he lifted his head to address her directly. „These are the ruins of Ogudei, my dear. They harbor tremendous amounts of treasures, just waiting to be explored."

„But whaddaya want wit 'em?" she pressed on, confused and curious.

Pelendur hesitated before answering. „You know what's going on within the Horde, do you not? Our Regent Lord fears that, just like the Darkspear Trolls, our people will soon be expelled from Hellscream's rampant army. We need to gather resources, to unify our kind, and to stand independent should the unthinkable happen one day."

Nodding in agreement, the warrior left him to his scrolls again and decided to stroll around in these mines for a bit. Just as Pelendur had predicted, there were many blood knights positioned throughout the galleries. Even though Cerril didn't particularly like them, she gave them credits for not staring so angrily at her like the orcs always did. It was a more than welcome change and allowed her to finally relax a little.

Suddenly, after venturing into a tunnel that was a bit farther away than others, she heard steps from behind. Much to her dismay she realized that she hadn't brought any weapon with her; regardless, she would be able to best any opposer with her bare hands, if it had to be. As she turned around, however, the only person standing behind her was a young blood elf, clad in fine leather and wearing a grin so self-confident that Cerril almost winced at it.

„Evening, lady." he said in a hushed tone, and quickly went on with his introduction when Cerril didn't respond, „My name is Draziel Valanaris. I... couldn't quite believe any of the rumors I've heard recently. A troll... it has been some time since I have seen any trolls at all." He eyed her curiously, approached her with a few small steps. „Tell me, where and how did he get you to follow him to Pandaria?"

Cerril didn't know what to say. Apparently, every blood elf she came across held some kind of fascination with her, and she couldn't decide on how to think about that fact. Despite it all, she eased her stance a bit, as she knew that this guy definitely wasn't posing any threat to her.

„I owed 'im a debt," she simply stated. „The rest is none 'a ya business."

„So I see... Ha, he always finds the most exotic ones." Before Cerril could react on his cryptic statement, he nodded over to the exit of the tunnel. „Better return to him, I'm sure he's already missing you."


	3. Chapter 3

Ah, I don't really know where exactly to go with this story :D Pelendur is getting scarier and scarier with every chapter xD

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Later that evening, when the blood elves had finally decided it had been enough work for that day and the sun was already setting, Cerril and Pelendur made their way to a small camp. It was located a bit more inland, just where the jungle itself began to thrive. The blood knight led her through the accumulation of tents and busy blood elves, obviously wanting to bring her to his very own. Obediently, Cerril followed, but an uneasy feeling gnawed at her guts. Surely she would be given her own retreat...?

Nevertheless, he asked her to step beyond the curtains that protected the interior from unwanted glances. She complied, and was surprised to find that his tent was actually the size of at least three. A bit shocked, she looked at him, confusion apparent on her features.

He simply laughed, „What? Have you never seen anything like this before? It is a simple magic trick." Then he went on to casually remove his boots and breastplate from his body, just as if this tent was the most normal thing in the world.

Yeah, for him maybe, but Cerril was still regarding the ceiling suspiciously, somehow fearing it might come down at any moment.

„Calm down, you're safe here." Suddenly there was a glass of wine shoved in front of her face. For a short moment, Cerril flinched, but accepted his offer hesitantly. By the Gods, what was she doing here, anyways? Pelendur stared at her with his big, glowing eyes as though she was some kind of fascinating monstrosity, or at least she somehow had that particular feeling. And it made her really uncomfortable.

She cleared her throat, wanting to break the awkward silence which she couldn't handle at all, not necessarily being one of the most eloquent trolls out there.

„So, I met tis one guy in the ruins..." she began, slowly turning away from him to sit down on a nicely ornamented couch. „Asked me why I'm 'ere."

Pelendur regarded her with a scowl, approaching her warily. „What did you tell him?"

When he sat down next to her, she scooted away from him as discreetly as possible, not wanting to seem rude. „Noting," she answered in a defiant tone.

His nod indicated that he was content with her statement. „And did he mention his name?"

Now, Cerril seriously had to think hard for a moment. What was that guy called again? Pondering, she took a first sip of her wine. It tasted like Pinot Noir.

„Draziel... someting? I dunno."

Pelendur's predatory eyes swept over her form as he answered abstractedly, „Aha."

This situation was definitely beginning to get more than discomforting. Cerril gave him a stern look when he just wouldn't stop eating her with his verdant eyes. „I tink it's time for me to go." This guy was such a psycho.

Thankfully, he flashed a smile at that sentence. Cerril inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. „Where to? You're supposed to sleep in this tent."

The troll's face was immediately drained of all color. „What?" she asked, horror coating her voice.

„Just think of what would happen if one of the Warchief's loyal bloodhounds found you alone in a tent? They would bury you alive!" he tried to bargain, almost whining. Obviously, he was very afraid of seeing her getting hurt.

Groaning and unbelieving, Cerril quickly emptied her glass. „I'm a warrior, 'ave ya forgotten? I can defend myself."

„This is outrageous!" Pelendur quickly exclaimed, getting up from the couch in one swift movement. One could have had the impression he was arguing with his very own stubborn daughter. „Just do as I tell you!"

His reaction was more than exaggerated in Cerril's opinion, and she knew she should just have ignored his weird antics and left, but the impulsive part of her Trollish being wouldn't let her and thus, she snapped. Upset, she yelled, „I don' take orders from noone!", grabbed the hem of his surely expensive shirt, pulled him so close that her breath ghosted over his face. „Not even from you."

Just like earlier that day, his face took on a reddish hue. Then, he grabbed her wrist in a feeble attempt to defend himself, staring back right into her eyes defiantly. „Well, as the one who hired you, I won't give you permission to sleep in your own tent."

Cerril's brows knitted together in fury, her teeth bared. She should just simply slaughter that guy and return to her home. Yet, she was bound by her honor, bound to stay here and work as Pelendur's bodyguard. She had agreed to his offer and now felt obliged to see it through.

„Well," she growled after a few moments, „I sincerely 'ope ya 'ave a reason for tat." Finally, she let go of him, pushing him away from her and into the back rest of the sofa. „And I really 'ope ya can handle my snorin'."

It was strange though; was it really that dangerous to sleep in one's own tent when you were a barely tolerated troll? She didn't think the orcs were that desperately craving a bloodshed to seek her out and slaughter her while she was asleep. But to be honest, Cerril felt terribly tired, and the only thing she wanted right now was to get a good night's sleep.

Pelendur seemed happy with her decision and quickly got up to point to her bedroll. „Here, this is all yours. I promise you there won't be any unpleasant incidents. I just want you safe from harm."

By the Gods, she truly prayed he was right.


	4. Chapter 4

Oh the mystery! Steamy scene.

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Soon, Cerril found that she couldn't quite sleep after all, despite her fatique. She was lying in her bedroll, turning around every few minutes or so. There was a burning sensation deep inside her abdomen, it wasn't strong, yet kept her from slipping into sweet dreams.

What to do in such a situation? She needed sleep, otherwise the next day would be hell for her, as she kind of had a feeling that this pain wouldn't go away so quickly. Worried, she mangled her lower lip; should she go and seek Pelendur's help?

The paladin was sleeping on the other side of the tent, completely still. So still that it was almost creepy. Maybe she shouldn't turn to him, after all.

Suddenly, she felt the burning shifting; it went a little lower than before. This couldn't be; her nether regions were on fire! Cerril stared into the darkness, disbelieving. She couldn't explain this at all.

Somehow, her thoughts automatically jumped to different topics. The face of Zulterion, her former lover, appeared. He had been the result of a coupling between a high elf and a troll; as such, his tusks and nose had been smaller than normal, and his build a little more upright. Some had found it grotesque, but Cerril... she had fallen in love with him at first sight.

Their first time had been so wonderful. Zulterion's ministrations had ranged from tender to savage, something not every troll was capable of. Alone the thought of that stirred something within her which she couldn't quite suppress. Oh, how she longed for his touch...

But alas, the shaman had been mortally wounded in a skirmish about a year ago. He had died to liberate the Echo Isles from their tyrannical ruler, alongside Vol'jin. After the fight, Cerril had rushed to his side while he was taking his final breaths. Her tears had been running without an end, but he simply touched her face with his five-fingered hand, telling her he'd wait patiently for her on the other side.

A sigh left her lips as she once again imagined him in all of his beauty and deliberate ferocity, fuelling the fire in her core. Her face felt flushed; no wonder, given the circumstances. A need so great surfaced in her, it almost scared her. By the Gods, what was happening to her?

She turned her head into the direction in which Pelendur lay. Maybe he could tend to her terrifying need? Her sight was getting hazy, just like when she would drink too much. There was no time for further reasoning, she had to smother the fire within her _right now_.

Growling lowly, she quickly closed the distance between herself and the elf, ripping off her linen shirt in the process. When she was standing above him, in all her glory, Pelendur seemed to realize her close proximity and gave a surprised yelp.

„Cerril...? What in the name of...?" he whispered, taken aback. It was dark, yet the troll was able to see the way his eyes roamed her body hungrily, just like a starving lion would look at his meal before he hunt commenced. Or maybe her imagination played a trick on her...?

„Shaddap, mon," she shushed him and knelt down to slip under his blanket. His body was so warm and soft, it made her shiver in delight. „Undress, quickly."

She could practically feel the incredulous look he was giving her while tugging off his underwear.

„Yah, I betcha were waiting for tis, elf." Her voice was hoarse already, causing her heavily accented Orcish to sound even more primitive. When she was finally sitting on his pelvis, she could feel his engorged manhood rubbing between her thighs. „Oh, I betcha were..."

„Wh-what are you talking about?" he ground out, still a little hesitant. His hands rested on her knees and dared not go further.

Instead of more tiresome talking, Cerril bent forward to silence him with a kiss. Kissing someone was always a little difficult, but to be honest, she wasn't exactly kissing him anyways. Her tongue greedily lapped at his mouth until he opened up to let her in and explore as much as she wanted. After a few moments, it became too much for him, and he turned his head away with a frightened expression on his face.

He was so cute.

„C'mon, mon!" she growled, grabbing his hands and guiding them behind her hindquarters. „Jus' do it, already."

Pelendur finally gave up on his reluctance. With a sigh, he positioned the head of his swollen member between her soggy nether lips. Cerril gave him a satisfied smirk and slowly, ever so slowly, let herself sink down onto him.

Gritting his teeth, the elf wheezed a few breaths before letting out a low moan when he was sheathed inside her completely. It drove Cerril mad with lust; immediately, she lifted her hips to let them come crashing down again with a fierce intensity. Being filled was such a pleasant feeling!

The elf's hands helplessly groped her full breasts as she simply used him for her own enjoyment.

„When was yer last time, eh?" she breathed through swollen lips, admiring his reddened cheeks and the ever-present unease in his features. He closed his eyes, growling, „Why would you... ah, care?"

Cerril left it at that, choosing to remain silent and let the vulgar slapping sound of their hips speak for itself. It seemed to have an effect on Pelendur; after a few more moments, he stopped her movements and pushed her off him, onto the mattress. Knowing where this was headed, she complied, laying down on her back and spreading her legs so that he had better access.

There was a long-drawn groan as he penetrated her again which completely drowned out the troll's soft gasp of pleasure. She locked her thighs around his waist, pulling him into her even deeper and started to circle her pearl with a lazy finger. Bracing himself on his arms on either side of Cerril's head, the elf now quickened his pace. Apparently he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible... or was he actually enjoying this? Through her hazed perception, she couldn't quite decide.

It wasn't long before he finally reached his climax; his barely suppressed moans spurred her on even further, and with a few last strokes of her finger, Cerril came as well, clenching around his manhood in desperate need. Finally, the fire within her subsided, and as the want vanished, she was left with a confused mind and a panting blood elf in her arms.

What the hell had just happened?


	5. Chapter 5

Heya, long time no update... I'm sorry D:

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Pelendur's shocked face would forever be burned into her mind.

„Why did you do that?" he whispered, trying to squirm out of her embrace.

Cerril only growled angrily, „How da hell should I know?" What she had just done troubled her deeply, and she simply could not explain her behavior. It was as if someone – or something, for that matter – had forced her to do this.

„You- I mean, you really are a pretty troll, I've got to admit, but..."

She cut him off with an ugly snarl before lifting her head. „Save dose nice words for sometime else... I tink I just heard som'ting."

Immediately, Pelendur went completely stiff, his long ears twitching, probably in order to pick up possible noises. All the while, his eyes still warily fixated her.

„I'm gonna 'ave a look outside," she eventually said. „You stay put 'ere."

He only nodded and watched her as she stuck her head between the folds of the curtain at the entrance of the tent.

All that the troll could see was darkness at first, but after some time her vision adjusted to it and revealed to her a few footprints in the sand directly in front of the entrance. They were definitely not an orc's or goblin's, so that she didn't have to fear assassination... but rather...

She retracted her head to look back to Pelendur who was putting on a beautifully crafted robe. He eyed her, as she was still naked, and keened, „I really like your body, but please put on something as well?"

Cerril only rolled her eyes and did as he asked her to, slipping over a robe of the sin'dorei that Pelendur handed her over. The fabric was comfortable and smelled of mana thistle.

„Tell me, is it normal for you digging blood elves ta run 'round the camp after a day fulla hard work?" she asked him. „Shouldn't you guys be sleepin'?

The blood elf furrowed his brow. „Actually, we should, yes." Then his face took on a more shifty expression. „If not for your extremely unexpected advances, I would be sound asleep as well, you know..."

Anger seized Cerril - by the spirits, was he getting on her nerves! - and she took a step forward to grasp him by his shoulders which seemed so small in comparison to hers.

„Don't ya get it? I didn't do tis of ma own accord! And if you ever mention what happened ta any of yer elven friends, I'll cut out your precious tongue personally!"

Pelendur just stared at her wide-eyed, slowly nodding in agreement. „I-it could prove really bad to have anyone, especially Hellscream's orcs, know about this incident. They would kill me!"

That piqued Cerril's interest. „For what?"

„For collaborating with the enemy, I guess...?"

Slowly, she let go of him and thought for a moment.

„Den let's hope nobody heard us..."

There was an awkward silence between the two before Pelendur actually had the guts to break it.

„So... what did you find outside, anyways?"

Cerril worried her lip for a moment. „Footprints. A blood elf's."

„Then why don't we trail them back from where they come from?" The dumb grin on his face almost made her smile.


End file.
